


Side Quests

by ArmsShanks



Series: Gaining Experience etc [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Drabbles, Fluff, M/M, Slice of Life, age adjustment from canon, getting used to a rl relationship after 3 years of ldr
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-05-01
Packaged: 2019-03-29 08:54:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13923693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArmsShanks/pseuds/ArmsShanks
Summary: Random drabbles that take place after Gaining Experience- I just like writing these boys.Slice of life / introspective musings mostly.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey I felt like continuing to write these guys occasionally so here are some words. If you've not read [Gaining Experience](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12920895/chapters/29524356) this won't make any sense so uh, yeah. 
> 
> Thanks to [Thyme-Basalt](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thyme_Basalt/pseuds/Thyme_Basalt) for betaing.

Walking kinda sucked.

The music helped at least. Jamie has amassed a pretty impressive collection of crap from a wide variety of genres on his phone. His earbuds are getting a little tinny with age but he refuses to complain; he shouldn’t be asking for luxury items until he can afford them himself.

He’s not working yet. It’s driving him a little bit nuts. At Mako (and Angela’s) insistence, he takes daily walks around the suburban area where Mako’s- _their_ apartment rests. If he’s feeling adventurous, he’ll take the bus downtown and walk with a bit more to see and windowshop. The bus costs money though and he sneers at the idea of wasting a few dollars just to perform the same action. He was doing this for exercise, not sightseeing. If he spends all day lying around at home he’ll just continue to lose muscle mass and get horrifyingly out of shape; he’s already out of shape from everything else he’s been through.

He thinks of the photo he took right before the accident. Not only is he nauseated by it for its timing implications, he’s now jealous of the physique he had barely managed to scrape together at the time.

He grits his teeth and reaches up to tug at his hair in a nervous tick. He’s getting into those thoughts again. He twitches for his phone to text Mako, but stops himself. Mako has to deal with him all day at home; he doesn’t need whiny texts while he’s at work. Bad enough that Jamie is a drain on his finances-

_Okay, nope. Nope stop. You’re not a problem. Mako would not put up with you if you were. He told you that._

He groans out loud. He really, really needs a job. His thigh stump is starting to complain at his extra-long walk today, and he should go home and try some of the exercises he’s been trying to get into for the rest of his body. “Abs again someday,” he grumbles to himself.

He takes a turn that will get him back home the quickest and limps on.

 

\---

 

Jamie watches Mako when he's not watching him.

Jamie’s gaze is intense and fixed and bright. He watches the way Mako's moves. It's most often slow and deliberate; everything in Mako's posture to his countenance exudes the implication that he's in no rush. Things will happen in due time and he'll deal with them when they do.

It drives Jamie a little nuts. He wants to jump up and down and hurry and work and do. At the same time he also wants to simply watch, and examine, and study. There's a peace in watching Mako that reminds him of the movies and audio that his boyfriend has sent him in the past that elicited similar reactions of calm. The rise and fall of Mako's deep breaths are hypnotizing like long camera takes of repetitive movement.

Mako's body is perfect. The curves in his pronounced arm muscles make Jamie stare and the swell of his gut compliments the whole package. He's built for strength and stamina and style. He's a perfect machine, as far as Jamie's concerned. Broken far from the mold of all the boring people around them. Tall and huge and indifferent and gorgeous.

The fact that Mako clearly _knows_ this makes him absolutely devastating. Jamie drinks in the way Mako does simple things, like walking through the grocery store and navigating busy sidewalks. He appears to pay so little mind to everything going on around him as he stands both figuratively and literally above it all, but his steps belay his concern in purpose. He knows how to get out of the way, he knows how not to obstruct. He knows when to wade in and cut through crowds in a way that can not be denied.

He’s doing that today, as the pair take a weekend walk to see the quaint downtown shops that make up the downtown core of Mako’s medium-sized city home. Occasionally they stop to look at trinkets or grab a cheap treat.

Jamie follows after him, hovering in the slipstream of Mako’s wake. His eyes watch shoulder blades rotate in place and the pattern of in out, up down, side to side that accompanies the mechanics of walking. It’s helpful, he thinks, for his studies. He’s learning how muscles and bones work in his spare time, and Mako is an excellent subject to observe. Jamie holds the true and professional motivation, but it’s not his only one. Mako’s hair shines in the sunlight and Jamie thinks of how smooth it is when they’re at home and he can finally run his hands through it and around that thick neck, now shining with just the smallest hint of sweat.

He trips on a divot in the sidewalk - not even with his prosthetic - and nearly crashes face first into the ground. The distance he’d given Mako for his exercise in admiration gave him plenty of room to catch his left palm on the concrete and his false knee skids in its effort to grab his weight.

He barely hears the deep “Jamie?” amidst the other chatter of the busy street and his own self-admonishment. His face begins to burn at the stares, but Mako’s form is quick to block them out. Ever deliberate, ever careful. “You alright?” The deep rumble is closer this time, and Jamie has the presence of mind to nod his head.

He scrambles to push himself back up, but his right knee shifts and he’s nearly tumbling. Mako is there with one hand on his wrist and another on his hip before Jamie can stumble again.

“Shit,” Jamie grumbles, looking down. “I think I, uh, gimme a tick here.” Jamie uses his head to motion towards the half-disconnected prosthetic while his hand is still captured by Mako’s. Thick lips frown at the blood welling up from scraped skin. “S’nothin’,” Jamie says quickly. He gestures towards a nearby bench which Mako helps him hobble to.

Jamie hates needing to be helped with something so simple, but he can’t help but feel a little giddy at Mako’s hovering concern, close and cloying, a musky scent that cuts through the gas and food vendors of the street. He tries not to lean into it.

They’re used to this part of the song and dance by now. Mako helps hold the prosthetic in place and assists Jamie with the straps to make it a less tedious task one-handed. Mako doesn’t let him rest though, quick to tug him up to find a place he can wash and bandage Jamie’s scrape. One of his massive hands rests on Jamie’s shoulder, keeping him in front of him this time. Jamie pouts and looks up at him, showing how little he’s learned from keeping an eye on where he’s going.

“I can walk just fine, mate. Don’t need ya holdin’ my hand everywhere.”

“You’d rather I don’t?” Mako’s voice is a low, conspiratorial hum in his ear. Jamie shivers as the hand is taken from his back and he immediately feels naked. Mako snorts at the put-out look that immediately graces Jamie’s face at the action and his hand makes its way to Jamie’s hip instead. Jamie shudders at the touch and curses under his breath. “Asshole,” he hisses and feels self conscious for walking aside instead of behind into the crowd of people. He doesn’t want to look at them, he wants to look at _Mako_.

At least he can feel Mako. Heat radiates from the man even through the fabric of Jamie’s hoodie. Feeling is new. Feeling is different. Feeling is a little scary and it makes him imagine he’s on some sort of roller coaster that isn’t ending anytime soon.

It’s only the familiar tinkle of the bells overhead that tells him they’ve reached Mako’s usual cafe. Jamie isn’t used to walking the streets on a busy weekend but Mako thought seeing the sights would be a nice change of pace rather than just riding straight to the doorfront. Mako gives him a light push towards the bathrooms and Jamie mutters out a quick “I know, I know,” before walking off to wash his bleeding hand, which by now is starting to sting pretty fiercely.

As he scrubs out the dirt and pebbles, he catches sight of himself in the mirror. After spending so much time admiring Mako, Jamie looks to himself like a gangly jigsaw puzzle where half the pieces come from a different set, and some are missing all together. Mako is a complete, lovingly crafted unit with every consideration to style and performance.

He’s reminded of their game characters, and looks away from his reflection with an amused snort.

They hadn’t been together in this strange, real life space for more than a month. He’s getting used to things but he hasn’t quite fallen into a comfortable rhythm. They come to this cafe once a week, much like Mako used to do with Angela. Jamie feels a little bad; Mako does obviously miss their friend. He hopes the adherence to tradition and schedule help.

Structure, movement, anatomy, matched armor dyes and perfection wrap Mako up into the beautiful image Jamie sees before him as he steps out of the bathroom. The exterior sunlight casts a halo over Mako’s shiny grey hair as the man gazes patiently out the window.

Jamie exhales. He twitches to take out his phone for a photograph but that would probably be weird in the middle of the servers and patrons moving about. He ponders the geometrics of the scene, and how he will add to it by sitting in the seat opposite. There is something to be said for asymmetrical design. Opposites are supposed to attract, after all, so maybe to someone they will still make a pretty picture at the table. It’s how couples are supposed to sit, isn’t it? Across from each other for conversation and doe-eyed stares over cute pastries. There are a dozen pairs like that in his periphery.

He always hated that though, the weird detachment of sitting across. It made his words tumble and spill uncomfortably like he’s under pressure to perform. The distance felt like it was born out of some proprietary tradition rather than any sort of want or function.

He’s never cared much for tradition, and something tells him to not care about the framing or the structure of the scene he’s about to join. He dodges a waitress to reach the bench seat Mako is on, and slides in beside him. The chair opposite sits empty.

“Hey,” there’s an amusement in Mako’s voice that encourages him, and Jamie takes it as a sign to stretch out and melt into the older man’s side.

“S’up,” Jamie drawls.

Mako just chuckles as he draws his thick arm over Jamie’s shoulders and he adjusts his head into the crook of his shoulder and neck.

Mako may be perfect, but he picked out Jamie just based on his voice and personality, so he can put up with an imperfect picture, and so could the rest of the world.

“How’s your hand?”

“Fine.”

“Love you.”

Mako mutters the word against his ear as the waitress approaches and Jamie colours, reflexively burying his head in Mako’s side. Realizing he’s doing it in front of the waitress makes it even worse and he doesn’t know if he should be sitting up or hiding even more.

He feels as much as hears Mako’s voice order. Jamie prods him with his stump to have Mako order for him rather than remove his face.

“Nerd,” Mako says once she leaves. Jamie grumbles, looking up at him. There’s a blush of his own dusting Mako’s face and Jamie immediately straightens.

“Shit I made it weird-”

Mako’s arm pulls him back. Jamie lets himself be pulled back to his comfortable side. They don’t say anything for awhile.

 

\---

 

Jamie has utterly ruined Mako’s netflix recommendations.

Mako didn’t even know that so many documentaries about engineering and biology existed. Jamie doesn’t have much to do while Mako’s at work, he gets that, but he worries this is turning into something of an obsession. His hard drive is filling up with increasingly obscure pdf manuals.

When Jamie complains of a headache and eyestrain three days in a row when Mako gets home, Mako grumbles about how much time he’s spending staring at the screen. He muffles Jamie’s protests by dragging him away from backlit LCDs and tries to keep him busy as they prepare a more complex dinner and spend some time in bed.

He watches Jamie’s face as he sleeps. It’s scrunched up and pouting. If Mako didn’t know how light Jamie sleeps, he would have smoothed a hand over the younger man’s brow. He sighs, eyes drawn to the litany of scars that litter Jamie’s right side, crowned by the strange swirl and stretch of his stumps’ scar tissue.

He tries not to look at them when Jamie is awake; he knows Jamie hates that. Mako can’t admit that his preoccupation is a little more self-centred than just finding the sight unnatural.

There’s a very small, very irrational part of him that hates himself for not being there. Maybe if he had done something earlier, Jamie wouldn’t have gotten into that accident. Maybe if he hadn’t been indulging Jamie’s stupid compliment-fishing texts, Jamie wouldn’t have been stupid enough to keep his eyes on the screen.

Maybe then he wouldn’t still be struggling with writing his own name. Maybe he wouldn’t be neck-deep in an obsession to learn how to fix himself like one of the old cars he knows so much about.

In reality, Mako knows there’s nothing he could have done. He didn’t know Jamie was driving. He had no reason to expect anything would happen. He still feels some strange shadow of responsibility though. If he ever voiced his weird, overprotective thoughts, he’d likely get admonished, and with good reason. It’s not that he thinks Jamie can’t take care of himself, but he’s spent the last couple years helping to guide him through life from afar, and at the height of their connection, he can’t handle the thought of anything bad happening to the slim frame beside him.

Love makes people stupid; it was a cliche happening to him in real time. His distant-eyed reverie is interrupted by a soft gasp as Jamie curls up on himself, drawing his short arm in tight.

Mako reaches out this time, because he’s far too used to this already. His thick fingers find the skin of Jamie’s stump and circle them, lightly and then putting on more pressure. “Fuck,” Jamie groans, breathless and only half awake. He squirms closer to Mako as the larger man massages the scars. The transition is so effortless that Jamie doesn’t seem to fully awaken as his forehead rests against Mako’s chest, slowly unwinding from the pat down.

Mako is dozing off too now, and he holds what’s left of Jamie’s right arm in his hand one last time, whispering a “sorry” as he passes out.

On his next day off, Mako does some research of his own and drags Jamie away from the computer. Jamie perks up at the chance to ride the hog; he’s absolutely waiting for the day that it breaks down so he can offer to fix it. Mako knows this. He trusts Jamie, but he still hopes it doesn’t happen. Mako double checks the GPS on his phone for the unusual location and sets off.

Jamie sits neatly between his legs as they've discovered it's really the safest way to keep him from falling off. Jamie titters awkwardly, a sound not quite muffled by the second-hand helmet they bought him. It keeps Jamie from getting completely cozy, but it's still enough contact to make him fidgety and bashful all at once.

Jamie pulls off the helmet the second Mako's foot is set down at their location. He takes the opportunity to lean back and truly nestle into Mako's front, spine curved awkwardly back across Mako's stomach. His neck cranes back to look up at Mako's stubble.

"Have I told you lately I'm a fan?"

Mako takes his own helmet off and gives Jamie’s head a quick peck before nudging him off the vehicle. Jamie pouts but follows instructions. By the time Mako has pulled himself off of the bike, Jamie is already grumbling himself out of his contact-induced bliss.

"A book store? Ughhh..."

Mako rolls his eyes and guides the whining man to the front door. They're assaulted by a myriad of musty scents that make Jamie wrinkle his nose and Mako sigh contentedly.

A disinterested youth sits behind the front counter and raises a pierced eyebrow at their entrance. Mako decides it's worth the interaction to save Jamie's mood. "I read online you have a section with educational manuals?"

Jamie perks up at that. The employee motions to somewhere in the back and Mako begins to make his way through the shelves. There's not much room for his broad self to fit between the stacks of books, but the place is pretty large compared to most used book stores. Jamie is clearly interested now, which Mako can glean from the streams of blather escaping the younger man about outdated technology and space logistics. Eventually they reach an area full of what looks like a mix between old college textbooks and dry technical manuals that came with whatever machine they were bought with. Jamie’s whining peters out as he scans the spines and errant piles. He’s hand raises to pull one out, but then he looks back at Mako.

“These cost money though…”

That wasn’t really the complaint Mako thought he’d hear. “They’re like four for a dollar here.”

“I don’t have much lef-”

Mako sighs heavily. “Stop worrying about money; I can afford some damn books.”

Jamie squirms. “I don’t like-”

“And I don’t like you getting migraines and being bored and guilty. Just grab what you want and stop being a butt about it.”

The use of the word ‘butt’ seems to amuse Jamie enough that he caves, though his shoulders are still tense as he looks back to the wall of information. His hands twitch.

Mako nudges him in the rear with his shoe and Jamie jumps, turns around, and sticks out his tongue. He finally pulls out a book, which begins the chain.

Jamie can't hold his attention for fictional stories to save his life, Mako knows this. However, he’s seen the man devour complex mechanical texts like Mako used to chew through cheap romance novels. Jamie grabs large books and leafs through them, picking out the occasional one to add to his own pile. Mako watches a trend form. There’s a lot more biology textbooks set aside than he would have guessed.

Mako has taken his phone out to pass the time with shitty games when an excited titter from Jamie makes him look up. Jamie has found a book on prosthetic design and his long fingers flip through the pages reverently. Mako’s heart clenches and he reaches out on reflex, grabbing Jamie’s upper arm. The man jumps and his head whips around.

Mako stares him in the eye as Jamie looks back in confusion. “Ehh?”

“You really want to do it yourself?”

Jamie pauses, putting the pieces together. “Well, with Ange, but…” Jamie draws himself up. “Yeah. I’m gonna build an arm. And my own leg. Can’t be that har-”

Mako yanks him forward in a kiss and Jamie nearly drops the book as he falls against Mako. A moment passes, silent except for the subtle shifting of clothing and a quiet radio from the front of the store. Mako runs a hand up the back of Jamie’s shirt and lets out a muffled moan. He’s almost embarrassingly easy to work up; it’s kind of wonderful and hilarious and endearing.

“Pushy cunt,” Jamie mutters during a break for breath. “Coulda asked.”

Jamie is probably noticing the flush in Mako’s cheeks now and Mako responds quickly in kind to divert. “Thought you liked being pushed around.”

Jamie scowls through his embarrassment and flicks Mako’s nose. He turns back to the book.

“Should be easier on your eyes,” Mako mumbles.

“Bloody softie,” Jamie shoots back with no venom. They spend almost an hour in the bookstore and leave with a hefty pile of manuals that the cashier looks relieved to be rid of. The total comes to around fifteen dollars. Jamie shoves his nose back in the one prosthetic themed book he found as cash is exchanged, avoiding the interaction in shame. Mako ruffles his hair in retort before shouldering the bags and heading out.

Mako has no doubt that Jamie will build himself an arm. Jamie who can’t sit still, Jamie who talks too much about nothing, Jamie who says no and yes in the same breath. Jamie who won’t let anyone else solve problems that he has the ability to with hard work.

Mako will try to help though, where he can. After so many years, Jamie deserves it.


	2. Chapter 2

Sometimes Mako plays regular video games.

Mako’s PS4 is mostly used for Netflix and dvds, but he does own a couple games. They’re mostly simple things - 2D side scrollers with creative and stylized art direction. Sometimes they get more complex, like the Portal series. Jamie has gone from giggling at the funny voice lines in the game to prying himself away from the computer or his manuals to watch Mako play.

Mako is used to taking his time with things; he doesn’t play too often, just when the urge strikes. If he can beat one or two maps in Portal in a sitting, he’s happy.

If he gets frustrated with Jamie for anything, it will be how he acts while Mako plays these games.

Jamie sits beside Mako, crammed against his side. He points at things, he comments, he nearly vibrates in his effort to not attempt to grab the controller he can’t use. With his sharp mind for engineering, the puzzles that take Mako time to experiment through take Jamie just moments. “Oh!” Jamie’s sharp voice will spike in his ear. “You just gotta…”

Jamie struggles to explain trajectories and placements until he’s standing up and walking to the TV, tracing potential movements with his fingers. Mako lets the controller in his hands rest on his knees and stares, trying not to let his exasperation show. GLaDOS mocks his inactivity.

“Nono, you gotta like, well, see this? It’s-”

“Jamie,” Mako says, interrupting his heavily invested boyfriend.

To his credit, Jamie stops talking immediately and turns to him quizzically.

“It’s…” Mako struggles to find the words. “It’s about the journey, not the destination.”

Jamie tilts his head.

Mako sighs. “I enjoy figuring it out. At my own speed.”

Mako watches the gears turn in Jamie’s head and eventually, his hand drops away from the TV. “Oh. Roight.”

Mako grinds his teeth in guilt as Jamie steps away and grabs one of his books. Mako rubs the back of his head and speaks up. “Sorry didn’t mean to-”

“Nah, nah. It’s fine. Ya need your ‘you time’.”

Mako shifts. When GLaDOS makes another snarky comment about him not moving, Jamie looks up again. “Seriously mate, it’s fine.” He gives a crooked in grin which looks mostly genuine. Mako coaxes himself into relaxing back into his game.

He makes it through another level and then some before setting the game down. When he looks over, Jamie is bent into a painful angle around his book in Mako’s sizable computer chair. Mako raises himself up and his knees creak. He places a large hand on Jamie’s back, who jumps.

“Hey,” Mako mutters soothingly. Jamie lets out a sharp laugh. “C’mere, you’re gonna fuck up your back.”

Jamie yelps as he’s grabbed and pulled onto the couch. He holds his book but is drawn to smoshing his forehead into Mako’s chest and sighing. Mako runs a hand down his back to try and soothe the kinks.

“Sorry,” Mako says, echoing his words from earlier.

“Mmpfh.” Jamie grumbles into his chest.

“Grumpy shit,” Mako responds, fondness in his voice. Jamie curses but he just curls up tighter. Mako can tell Jamie is frustrated with himself. Mako runs his thumb over Jamie’s short arm and the smaller man shudders before sighing.

“Sorry too.”

Mako kisses him on the top of his head and they rest for awhile. The Playstation logo hovers to their right in an atmospheric sea of digital navy.

Mako used to be a stickler for home cooked meals, but Jamie is ruining him: they order in cheap Chinese so they don’t have to move as much. Mako sleeps early and Jamie stays up all night doing god knows what. It’s Saturday so Mako is off work, but he still rises early out of habit, leaving Jamie’s snoring self sprawled across the bed.

He has some experimenting to do.

When Jamie drags his ass out of bed around midday, leftover scrambled eggs wait to be reheated and Mako is watering his plants on the balcony. Jamie creeps up behind him, attempting to be seductive as he leans against Mako’s back, but he mostly fails due to his height. His hand barely makes it around Mako’s waist to the front pocket of his shorts.

“Morning.” Mako says with a snort.

“Mornin’.”

Mako indulges him in some light fooling around and in some time they find themselves in front of the couch with food. Mako waits patiently for Jamie to finish eating before he picks up the controller.

Jamie’s face scrunches up reflexively, remembering his misstep yesterday. He moves to roll off the couch but Mako traps him there, one arm around his skinny waist. Jamie yelps.

“I’m not your damn teddy, ya drongo-”

“Shh,” Mako puts his hand on Jamie’s face, who promptly curses. Mako uses his other hand to navigate the Playstation’s menu and open up a game. He hands the controller to Jamie as it boots up, and grabs a throw pillow with a pig’s face for it to rest on in his boyfriend’s lap.

Jamie tilts his head in question. “What’s this for?”

Mako settles back down beside him. “I remapped some of the controls; you only need a couple buttons to play. It’s not quite so challenging but…”

The pale, bleak expanse of Journey’s title card grace the screen. Jamie tilts his head, and then he snorts.

 _“It’s about the journey not the destination_ ,” he parrots back Mako’s words from yesterday, but higher pitched and nasal. Mako shoves him lightly.

Jamie looks down at the controller on the cushion for the moment, almost self-conscious as he pokes it, and then holds it, resting on the printed piggy’s face. He presses start.

Mako can tell that his boyfriend is biting back comments on how simple and unchallenging the game is, but as is often the case, the calm, repetitive and atmospheric experience lulls him into a kind of trance. Light chiming signals and endless dusty expanses of sand make him feel both dwarfed and at home. Jamie’s foot folds under him as he hunches over and plays, compact but not tense. He almost looks sleepy.

There’s something special in these moments and moods that Mako loves. He grabs a book but spends half of his time with his eye on the other man as he plays the simple game with simple controls one-handed.

It’s some time later during a stint of actually reading that Jamie bumps against him, eyes no longer glued to the screen but to Mako’s face. Mako blinks.

“Thanks,” Jamie says quietly. He leans against Mako’s side, and Mako rests his cheek on Jamie’s head in return.

Jamie continues to play the game.

 

 

\---

 

 

Mako has lived with Jamison in his moderate-sized one bedroom apartment for four months.

Mako is currently living without Jamison in his moderate-sized one bedroom apartment. It has been four days. It’s becoming increasingly apparent that he has no idea what he’s doing with his life and he’s frankly confused about how he functioned without Jamie here beforehand.

It’s his day off and Mako is laying in bed, cycling aimlessly between scrolling through stories on his phone and resting his eyes. It’s four in the afternoon.

Mako has never been the kind of person to spend all day in bed. Usually he spends Saturday morning hitting up the farmer’s market in town for groceries for the week. Sundays he would occasionally indulge in an extended motorcycle ride through the country around his home town. He’d spend evenings playing video games and reading his latest pickups from the library, because he still enjoys paper more than screens for his stories. He’ll often cook massive meals with his fresh ingredients that will last him a fair portion of the busy week.

Today, Mako only leaves the bedroom to grab a stale bagel for breakfast, read obscure news stories, and he is frankly starting to smell a little bad.

His phone buzzes and from his zoned out state in bed, it makes him jolt and drop the thing right on his face. He quickly opens up his texts to see a photo of a blonde, swiss doctor with ice cream on her face and dripping onto her black turtleneck. She’s holding a broken waffle cone and doesn’t look happy.

 **Jamie** :  
Pls add 2 the blackmail folder  
Thnx m8

 **Mako** :  
lol.

 **Jamie** :  
Classic roadie :_)  
Never change bb

A fond smile tugs at Mako’s lips. There’s a distinct nostalgia in the flavour of communication over distance, but it’s also paired with an intense loathing of its necessity. Added to the mix is the disappointment that came with seeing a picture that did not end up being of Jamie, who has been surprisingly neglectful of his usual hobby since he’s arrived at Switzerland. The last shot Mako has of him features a pointy-toothed grinning idiot in front of a tourist’s welcoming sign at the airport once he’d landed.

Mako figures this must be a sensitive time for the younger man, as he works with doctors to rebuild himself. The scars that Jamie keeps hidden away are the only part of him he doesn’t show off brazenly and regularly; even on warm days he prefers to wear a hoodie when they go out, one long sleeve empty where there should be flesh. He’s in a period of transition now and Mako doesn’t want to press the matter.

He still misses seeing Jamie though.

His boyfriend still texts, and has phoned every night, but it’s farther spaced out than what Mako’s used to. There are less of the run-on diatribes about minor inconveniences and casual observances that mark Jamie’s stream of consciousness writing. It’s fine. Mako knows Jamie is busy, and that he’s got Angela to talk to. He’s staying at her flat for the week or so since he’s “undergoing renovations,” he jokes.

Just a few more days and then he’ll be back, Mako knows. It’s nothing to worry about, or feel sad over, but here he is for some reason, lying in bed and zoning out into the afternoon.

His phone buzzes, after some time. Mako grimaces when he sees that a whole half hour has passed since his last check.

 **Jamie** :  
What’s for suppr big guy?  
Pretty sure the chef fucked up whatever i ordered here it tastes fuckin weird, i picked the thing with the hardest to pronounce name  
Mercy says i have no taste  
Which is fuckin slander because we all know know i know alllll the best brands of microwave meals

A question, that is a touch rare from Jamie while he is otherwise occupied.

 **Mako** :  
nothing.  
a bagel.

 **Jamie** :  
goddamn  
How u supposed to keep ur sexy physique w that

 **Mako** :  
ill manage.

 **Jamie** :  
Makoooooooo

 **Mako** :  
what.

 **Jamie** :  
Send me a piccy

 **Mako** :  
why.

Even as Jamie parrots a sarcastic ‘how’ back at him, Mako clumsily takes a blurry picture of himself and sends it. It’s a terrible picture with his thumb covering one corner and more of his pillow than his actual face in frame.

 **Mako** :  
Img: 213_9387

 **Jamie** :  
Okauy  
1:  
Hot  
2:  
Why are you still in bed innit like 2 there

 **Mako** :  
5.

 **Jamie** :  
Mako  
Makiekins  
Makaroon  
Roadhog  
Hoggie  
Hoggywoggy  
Mister rutledge  
Love of my life  
Fruit of my loins  
My one and only

 **Mako** :  
…

 **Jamie** :  
Do u  
m i s s s s s s s s s m e e e e e e e e ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ? ?

Mako rolls his eyes, but unexpectedly he feels his cheeks heat. In response he tosses the phone into the mess of covers at his side and slowly rolls over, face shoved into his pillow.

“ _Idiot_ ,” he at least sort of says, as well as he can with his mouth smothered.

The phone buzzes a few more times, and Mako ignores it because he’s actually pretty comfortable. Then it rings.

He groans and shifts to his side, groping blindly for the phone. He rolls his eyes again and picks it up. “You’re going to use all your international hours if you keep this up.”

“ShhhhHHHHHH,” Jamie’s voice is crackly and loud over the phone, his mouth clearly too close to the speaker. “Mako.... Makooooo-”

“Why.”

“Are you _wallowing_?”

“No.” Mako says it a little too petulantly. He frowns; petulant is not a good sound for him.

“You are.”

“‘M bored.” Professional dodge there, Mako.

“Listen-” Jamie grumbles quietly and there’s a lot of background noise- he’s clearly still out with Angela. There’s a shuffling and eventually Jamie comes back. “Hey,” he’s speaking quietly, but still too close to the speaker. “I love you and I miss you and you’re perfect in every way and you should probably get out of bed and stop being such a baby.”

Mako swallows. “Probably.”

There’s a second of a pause. “Fuckin’... forgot how hot you sounded like this. I mean better i-r-l and all but-” another pause. “Ange’s givin’ me that look that says ‘i’m patiently putting up with your bullshit only because I’m too nice to say anything else’ so I gotta go. Feelbetterloveyou.”

The call hangs up as Mako is caught between whether to respond with ‘I’m fine’ or ‘love you too.’ He stares at the disconnection screen for a moment and lets out a breath.

 **Mako** :  
thanks.

 **Jamie** :  
<3

Mako gets out of bed.

\---

He drives.

He missed this. He hasn’t taken a real trip in awhile; sure he’s been on short ones, but he hasn’t felt the need to really get away on the weekends since Jamie arrived. It’s still something that he loves though, and the roar of his motorcycle against the countryside hits a place in his chest he can’t define and doesn’t want to.

The land is rocky and beautiful, and he finds a cracked road running alongside the shore. The air is salty and pink tones slowly bleed into the clouds along the horizon. The encroaching dusk makes everything stand in sharp relief. The bright greens and pure blues of the landscape are muted only slightly, and he drives deep into a rich comfortable world highlighted by sharp golden edges and blurry, dark comforts.

He buys a saran-wrapped sandwich from a mom and pop convenience store and waits until he finds the right spot. It’s not quite a beach, in that the shores are more rock than sand, but he finds a seat on a piece of driftwood and unwraps it to quietly tuck in.

The meal is mediocre, but the clean air feels wonderful in his often laboured lungs, and the sound of the crashing sea is a beautiful white noise that allows him to zone out and just exist.

As the sun sets, he pulls out his phone.

 **Mako** :  
lets go on a road trip sometime.  
maybe we could camp or something.  
its nice.

The messages don’t send; it looks like he’s out of cell reception. He snaps a photo anyway to send later, showing the sun nearly dipped fully into the sea. After a moment’s hesitation, he takes a photo of himself too.

He always felt awkward taking photos of himself, even back in the day when it was a daily ritual. It had, after all, started out as a game of back and forth between the two: necessary bait to egg Jamie into sending his own photos. He wasn’t ashamed of how he looked; he was proud of his build and took good care of himself to achieve the look he wanted. It was just still… weird. Weird to specifically display oneself to a distant person with intent. He had trouble putting his finger on it, but it made Jamie happy, and it made him happy to receive the same treatment in return.

It was strange, putting so much consideration and effort into someone else. Mako had always loved his family, back when they were around, but he was always the quiet child. He always stood in the back of the group and hated smiling when mum brought out the camera. He would talk to his younger sister quietly and patiently, but in the sanctity over their own rooms as they discussed her problems at school and how to deal with life. He cried when he apologized to his mother for being suspended for breaking another kid’s jaw. He spent half his time in his room and the other half sneaking away to a small, secluded cavern of a grotto on the edge of a beachy cove. He avoided the tourists and the swimmers and sat in silence when he could get away with it.

Mako was a loner, and he enjoyed the solitude. Times had certainly changed though, because even here sitting in perfect peace he missed the scrawny, fidgeting presence of his partner.

He sighs, but he smiles. He’s still happy, alone or not, and it’s a good feeling.

It’s getting chilly out and he should get back into cell range before Jamie has a conniption.

\---

Mako arrives at the airport two hours early. The plane is delayed another hour. The game he’s playing absolutely destroys his phone charge; he didn’t realize it would take so long and he’s… he’s anxious. The thought is ridiculous. Mako does not get anxious.

Jamie had been in Switzerland for two weeks to get everything ready for (apparently) minor surgery for his nerves, design of the prosthetic, and adjustments to learn how to use it. At least that’s what Mako was told he was doing ahead of time; Jamie remained unusually recalcitrant on the details for the whole trip. He seemed excited as he boarded the plane though so Mako assumes it went well.

He hopes it went well. Considering how long Jamie has been planning for this, he _really_ hopes it went well.

Mako paces the arrival hall, entirely in his head as a child ducks out of the way to gawp at his size from behind a suitcase. He knows he looks intimidating in his boredom and frustration and he’s too annoyed to even care-

“Mako!”

He stops and his head whips around.

“Fuckin’... hold up, mate,” Jamie rasps in mock annoyance, making long strides towards him in the busy hall, brightly painted luggage in tow. It’s a sorely missed sight, and Mako immediately feels tension drain out of him like water. Jamie’s alright. He’s here. He’s back.

He’s different.

His gait is a bit stronger, which is refreshing from his awkward shuffling step. His knee stands out; it’s a clunky looking mechanical joint, not even trying to appear natural. The shin area is a simple metal bar. It looks like a peg, but with something on the bottom which must be helping keep Jamie’s usual worn sneakers on with their laces half undone.

“My eyes are up here,” Jamie quips, and Mako’s gaze snaps up. Jamie reaches him, his right arm trailing pulling the luggage. He comes to a stop at a small distance, hesitating, something like nervousness flitting across his face. After a second’s fidgeting, he drags the luggage around and attempts to lean casually on its raised handlebar, his new arm on full display.

It’s orange, because of course it’s orange. Its mechanical bits are obvious, matching the new knee. The pieces look clunky and robotic, but the silhouette isn’t too out there.

The feigned cockiness of Jamie’s pose reminds Mako of old photos traded without commentary and saved surreptitiously before they knew what they were. Jamie looks... right.

“ _Well?_ ” Jamie eventually blusters, voice too-loud, face screwed up and heat evident on his cheeks. The hoodie he’s wearing is pulled up to show off the arm, but his flesh hand twitches to yank it back down. Mako takes a step forward, putting his hand on his arm to stop him.

“Looks good,” Mako murmurs, finally, _finally_ close to him. He’s not sure what else to say, so he just pulls Jamie into a slow hug, and sighs with relief into his hair. It smells like the wrong shampoo, but at least he washed it.

“Wanted to surprise you. I mean. Shit’s for me, obviously, but was kinda hopin’ you’d ah… I don’t know?” Jamie’s breath is hot on the front of his shirt, nestled against his chest. “Be impressed? I guess?”

“S’perfect.” It’s the only word Mako can think of, to sum up this monumental accomplishment. He struggles to find something more to say that might help encompass what he’s feeling, but he comes up short. What he said seems to have satisfied Jamie, as the younger man lets out a long breath.

Jamie tolerates the smothering and the peace for all of a minute, before squirming uncomfortably. “C’mon, let’s blow this joint.”

“Sure thing.”

Mako heads home with Jamie as the spell of distance-driven awkwardness slowly fades. They are both whole again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> :> switched to GE for a spin; missed the boys.
> 
> The second two-thirds are part of my piece for [Gigi's Weekly Roadrat Assignments](https://archiveofourown.org/collections/GWA), for the prompt of "fixed it" ;>. Thanks as always to Thyme for betaing.
> 
> And thank you to everyone who continues to leave nice comments on Gaining Experience and everything. You are all so, so lovely and I hope you have a wonderful day.


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